


Tough

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Bruises, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Size Difference, Smut, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Worm reached for Viking’s uninjured right hand, and kissed it. Viking held his breath, heart thumping wildly, and kept feeling Worm’s lips there, long seconds after he let go....Two young men find their relationship changing in the face of a life-threatening situation.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Tough

**Author's Note:**

> Some background: these characters are part of a universe I've written like, a page for, like two years ago, and it will probably stay that way. In this specific story, Worm (real name Joseph) and Viking have just escaped a dangerous situation (think building collapse/explosion) with minor injuries and Worm is patching Viking up.
> 
> This specific fic was inspired by this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DdwSo2OZTo), 'Tough' by Quinn XCII feat. Noah Kahan, which I recommend listening to. Take a look at the lyrics anyway.
> 
> Trigger/content warning: brief references to painkillers (co-codamol) and to blood.

‘You could have got really badly hurt,’ Worm said.

‘And since when do you care?’ Viking shot back.

Worm closed the door behind them. Viking turned and looked at him, and saw how shaken he looked. He got a squirming feeling in his chest. Worm was looking at him, his eyes wide, and his face very pale.

‘Are you okay?’ Viking asked.

‘I – care,’ Worm got out. ‘Ugh,’ and he looked away, and put his hand through his hair. ‘I care,’ he said. ‘I was worried about you.’

Viking swallowed. He sat down at the desk and started to unlace his shoes with his right hand. He sensed Worm moving closer. When he looked up, he saw Worm sitting against the wall, his head tipped back and his eyes closed. His t-shirt had been ripped in several places, and the skin visible there was scratched and bruised.

Worm opened his eyes and Viking looked away, down at his hands. His left hand was pretty swollen, and it was painful to bend his fingers. It was starting to throb. Sooner or later the adrenaline would wear off, and Viking wasn’t looking forward to that.

‘How is it?’ Worm asked quietly.

‘It could be worse,’ Viking said.

Worm crawled over to him, and sat cross-legged in front of Viking’s chair, on the floor. ‘Give it here,’ he said, and Viking lowered his hand.

Worm’s hands were warm, which was a relief. He brushed his thumb very gingerly over the back of Viking’s hand, causing a painful prickling sensation. Viking felt his body start to tremble, and Worm glanced up at him.

‘You’ll be okay if I leave you here a minute?’ he murmured. ‘I’m gonna get painkillers, and something for a splint.’

Viking nodded. Worm stood up and left, and Viking put his hands in his lap and closed his eyes, feeling the slow pulse of the pain through his body, breathing deeply to calm himself down.

When Worm came back, he was holding a small bottle in one hand, and clutching some card and bandages in the other. He knelt in front of Viking again, taking his right hand and shaking out a tablet into it.

‘What is it?’ Viking asked.

‘Co-codamol,’ Worm said. ‘The lowest dose I could find. Tomorrow we go to the nurse, okay?’ He looked at Viking fiercely.

 _We_. Viking nodded. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop himself. Worm had never been so close to him before. His nose was smudged with soot and there was mud crusted in his hair around his ears. After what had happened, even though the two of them were alone in this room, maybe even alone in this building, it was comforting to have Worm’s bulk between himself and the rest of the world, like a shield, protecting him.

‘What?’ Worm said, sounding annoyed.

Viking swallowed the tablet dry, choosing his words: ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’

Worm sat back on his heels and hung his head. Viking saw a slight flush creep up his neck. Worm rubbed the back of his head, and looked back up at him. ‘Dude, I… I know I’ve been a shit to you before, and I’m… I’m sorry.’

‘Not for a while,’ Viking said weakly.

‘No, not for a while,’ Worm sighed. ‘Hey, I’m not doing this ‘cause I feel guilty, either. You did a good thing, today.’ He sounded so earnest. ‘And you really helped – Reagan and Cassidy – getting hurt for them.’

‘I did it for you, too,’ Viking said, before he could stop himself. Then his eyes started to burn, and he couldn’t look at Worm anymore, so he fixed his gaze on the floor.

There was silence for several seconds. Then Viking heard Worm sniff.

‘Oh,’ Worm croaked. Then, quick as anything, Worm wiped his eyes and started to unravel his roll of bandages. He handed the card to Viking, saying, ‘Put this on the back of your hand.’

Once Viking had, Worm started to wrap the bandage around Viking’s hand, not too tightly. Viking’s hand was hurting badly now, and he tried not to gasp or wince when Worm’s touch hurt him. Pain was zinging up his wrist, but he was also completely unprepared for this amount of physical contact, both hurt and entranced by it, and by the slow deliberate nature of Worm’s movements.

Worm taped the splint, and gently replaced Viking’s hand on his knee. ‘There,’ he said softly.

‘Thanks.’ A strange, exhilarating feeling was welling in Viking’s chest. ‘How about you?’ he breathed. ‘Your, um, your chest…’

Worm looked down at himself, and pulled his t-shirt up to show the base of his stomach. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said, dropping the fabric back down. Then he looked back up at Viking. Still he seemed slightly uncomfortable – shaken – but Viking couldn’t think how to make him feel better.

Then Worm reached for Viking’s uninjured right hand, and kissed it. Viking held his breath, heart thumping wildly, and kept feeling Worm’s lips there, long seconds after he let go.

They stared at each other. Viking slowly leaned forward, tilting his head slightly, terrified that Worm would pull away, but he didn’t move. He closed his eyes and felt their lips connect, almost forgetting about his hand in favour of this new sensation.

Worm’s mouth moved against his own, and Viking’s thoughts slowed and sank; he wanted to be closer, and closer still. He felt Worm’s hands on his knees, gently spreading them so as to shuffle nearer. Viking broke the kiss, and tilted his forehead to touch Worm’s own, so they shared breath.

Worm kissed him fiercely, clutching Viking’s knee. He deepened it, stroking Viking’s tongue with his own. Viking put his right hand over Worm’s and squeezed it, feeling dizzy. Their noses rubbed and the slide of Worm’s tongue over his lips made him moan, pulling the sound from his throat like water out of the desert.

Viking pulled back, his face flaming. Worm’s lips were wet and reddened, and when he opened his eyes Viking saw his face was calm and unguarded.

Then Worm smiled slowly, such a rare precious thing, and a delicate blush stained his cheeks. Viking was smiling, too; he felt hot and bright and glowing inside. Incandescent.

‘Viking,’ Worm rasped. ‘I, uh, I really like you.’ He rubbed his neck.

‘I like you, too,’ Viking said, hushed and pleased, like a secret.

‘How’s your hand?’ Worm asked.

‘Painkiller’s working.’

‘Should last a few hours.’

Viking smiled, and Worm smiled back. Viking summoned back his courage. ‘You wanna kiss some more?’

Worm nodded. He stood up and drew Viking up with him, putting his hands on Viking’s waist. Through the cotton of Viking’s formal shirt, Worm’s hands were hot, and covered a lot of Viking’s narrow torso. A shuddering molten heat was pooling in his gut. When they kissed again, their teeth clacked, but Viking’s brief panic was stopped in its tracks by Worm’s thumbs digging into his hipbones.

Worm’s tongue was hot and magical in his mouth, his hands were moving over Viking’s back, and Viking wanted to hold the solidness of him, wanted to be held by him. _Fuck_ , Worm could probably pick him up. If this got too heated, Viking was going to embarrass himself.

Worm had no such compunction. He slid a hand down to the small of Viking’s back, and pulled him towards him so their hips connected. And Viking knew _he_ was hard, but not that Worm was hard too. Now he did.

‘Is this okay?’ Worm asked, and Viking nodded, hunger crying out inside him, yearning for touch. Through their trousers Viking felt the solid heat of Worm’s erection, answering his own.

‘Say yes,’ Worm whispered, his voice shaking. Viking noticed now that Worm’s whole _body_ was shaking.

‘Yes,’ he said. And Worm moved his mouth to Viking’s jaw, nipping the skin there, and then his ear. He took the lobe between his lips; he darted his tongue over the skin beneath Viking’s ear. Viking released a stuttered groan. Worm’s panting breaths came hot and damp over his flushed skin, and Viking wanted more of it, always more of it.

When Worm rose up again in Viking’s bleary vision, he walked them the few steps backward to the bed. He moved Viking onto his back and knelt between his splayed thighs.

‘Is this okay?’ he asked.

‘Yeah.’

Worm unbuttoned Viking’s shirt, and the heat of his gaze made Viking want to squirm. As he tugged Viking’s shirt down his shoulders and chest, the heels of his hand rubbed at Viking’s nipples, and Viking really did squirm.

‘Please, Worm, please –’

Worm kissed his chest, over his heart. ‘Call me Joseph,’ he said. ‘Not “Worm”, anymore.’

‘Joseph,’ Viking said. He stroked Joseph’s hair, spun gold wrapped round his fingers.

Joseph took off his t-shirt and shucked off his jeans, and threw them across the room. When Viking looked downwards he saw the clear shape of Joseph’s cock, and really wanted to touch it, wanted Joseph to be so close to him again. Then he took off his own trousers, dropping them off the side of the bed, and relishing the way Joseph looked at _him_.

Joseph leaned forward onto his elbows and kissed Viking on the mouth, deeply, before drawing away and licking his nipple, instead. The heat of his mouth there, the swirl of his tongue, sent a bolt of pleasure straight down Viking’s spine. He whined, high enough in pitch to be embarrassing, before noticing Joseph’s hips grinding into the mattress.

‘Up here, up here,’ he said, and Joseph came willingly, tucking his face into Viking’s throat and lowering his hips onto his. Viking scrabbled to pull their underwear down their legs. Now all he could see, really, was Joseph’s head, and behind him the pale ceiling. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of Joseph’s body pressed up against his, all along the borders of their shapes, and then came the electrifying, awful pleasure, as Joseph started to move.

It was hot, dry, too dry, and Joseph spat in his hand repeatedly to get enough slick. Joseph’s hand came around him as he spread it, and Viking clutched him in his efforts not to thrash at the intensity of it, the strong pulse of pleasure when Joseph squeezed him. And then – God help him – took the both of them in his hand.

Joseph slowly pressed his teeth into Viking’s collarbone, too slow to be a bite. Viking’s left hand hung uselessly off to the side, but his right was moving up and down Joseph’s back, and when he tentatively scraped at his skin with his fingernails, Joseph jerked above him, and moaned, long and low. To hear it, to feel the vibration of it in his skin, was too much.

Joseph raised his head, and Viking opened his eyes to see his face, flushed and sweaty. His eyes were dark and fixed on Viking’s own.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed. ‘Viking.’

‘Feels so good,’ Viking sobbed, and he felt Joseph’s pace slowing, and groaned in frustration.

‘Just you,’ Joseph murmured, ‘come on, just you,’ and it was just him now, him in Joseph’s hand. Viking couldn’t – he couldn’t – he flung his right arm over his face and bucked into the touch.

Joseph’s mouth was on his neck again, and Viking half-wanted Joseph to kiss him, but maybe Joseph liked his sounds. The teeth were back – the weight was back – and Joseph’s hand was speeding up, rubbing and stroking him still with such reverence.

It was okay to let go, it was okay to be vulnerable, here. It was easier for Viking not to see, but he could feel Joseph’s eyes on him, and he could hear his sounds, wounded and ragged. Joseph was _pulling_ them out of him, _dragging_ them up from his lungs, the same way he had pulled Viking out of the rubble. Viking’s blood was rushing in his ears, he couldn’t think, there was only the pressure. He was safe, he was safe and he was alive, and with this boy who liked him, who wanted him. Joseph had set fire to something, set fire to _him_.

Finally the pleasure snapped, shooting up Viking’s spine like a ray of light. His orgasm pulsed through him, spurting onto his stomach and Joseph’s slowing hand. Viking got his breath back in ragged gasps, enjoying the slow outward spread of relaxation in his muscles, before he took his arm away.

Joseph was staring at him. Sweat was cooling on Viking’s forehead, and he felt a little awkward. ‘Jesus,’ he said weakly. He saw Joseph’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

‘That was amazing,’ he said. Joseph smiled at him. ‘Swap places with me?’

Joseph slowly turned onto his back. Viking plucked some tissues from the box on the end table and wiped himself up, dropping the wad into the bin next to the door. He turned back around and looked down the length of Joseph’s naked body: the cuts and bruises on his chest; his cock, which he loosely held; the dark hair on his thighs and shins.

Viking lay next to Joseph, and kissed his lips, closed-mouthed. He stroked Joseph’s chest, then lowered his head to the cuts, and kissed them. Joseph trembled under his lips. Viking licked the wounds, faintly tasting blood, but mainly focused on the soft sounds coming from Joseph’s mouth. He caressed the tender flesh with his tongue, careful not to push on any bruises.

‘Viking,’ Joseph said. ‘Viking, please.’

Viking moved Joseph’s hand away from his cock, and took hold of it himself, stroking slowly. Joseph gripped Viking’s hand with his own, and Viking looked up at him, meeting his eyes; Joseph grinned lazily at him, and guided his hand to wank him faster.

‘Up here,’ Joseph said, echoing Viking’s words, and Viking went. Joseph kissed him desperately, licking into his mouth, and Viking let him reap his pleasure. His harsh breaths were coming faster – Viking felt drunk on the power he was wielding, to take and take from Joseph and give him this, this beauty in return, to wring these sensations and sounds out of him, and bask in them like a lizard.

‘Joseph, you’re so –’ no, he couldn’t say it. He kissed Joseph, but then Joseph said, ‘I’m so what?’ and Viking couldn’t stop himself, he looked down at Joseph and he said, ‘So _pretty_ ,’ all earnest and – and Joseph swore, and came on Viking’s hand.

Stunned, Viking stared at the evidence. Joseph was breathing harshly. God, Viking hoped he wasn’t about to freak out. He looked up at him, and saw that his eyes were closed and he was rubbing his face. Viking got more tissues and cleaned his hand. He sat next to Joseph, waiting, until Joseph said, ‘What?’

‘I really liked that,’ Viking said.

Joseph grinned at him. ‘Yeah, me too.’ He propped himself up on his arms. Viking crawled onto him, and pulled up the duvet from the foot of the bed.

‘This okay?’ he asked, since Joseph seemed kind of tense again. Joseph gulped, wide-eyed, and said, ‘Yeah. Yeah.’

Viking kissed him. Joseph hesitated before kissing back. _Maybe, if Joseph has done this before, it didn’t end like this,_ Viking thought. But he wasn’t sure even of that.

Joseph’s arms came around him, and Viking put his head on Joseph’s chest, hearing the beat of his heart as it returned to normal. Joseph touched his hair, then started to stroke it, carding his fingers over Viking’s scalp in a way that was incredibly relaxing.

Sleepy as he now was, Viking said, ‘You think my hand will be okay tonight?’ His left arm was stretched out over Joseph’s torso, his hand hanging over above the mattress.

‘Can’t see myself rolling on it,’ Joseph murmured. ‘The pain would probably wake you up.’

It didn’t seem like such a bad thing, now. Everything was okay. Joseph’s hand cupped Viking’s neck, thumb stroking the top of his spine, and the body heat under the duvet now was making them both seriously dozy.

Viking was safe. Viking was happy. Viking closed his eyes.


End file.
